


A Name Carved in Gristle and Bone

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Symbiote Sex (Marvel), symbiote au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 15:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17205794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Thor thought it might be a nightmare come true, being so literallyboundto Loki in such a way. Loki, who already seemed to possess the power to read into his very thoughts, who had lived underneath his skin for as long as Thor could remember, now quite literallylived beneath his skin.





	A Name Carved in Gristle and Bone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seidrade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seidrade/gifts).



> This is a (belated) Christmas gift for [seidrade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seidrade)! Full disclosure: I originally went for the AOA prompt, then I moved to an older!Loki/younger!Thor AU with Loki as the pretentious owner of a bookstore and Thor as a college student just trying to pass his Classics course, and long story short you'll probably end up getting two more of these gifts in the new year because both got out of control.
> 
> This is a short fic based on your symbiote!Loki prompt. I hope I did our prompt justice!

Thor awakens immobile, cocooned in darkness.

The first time he woke up in this predicament, he’d screamed. 

Now, he’s just annoyed. 

“You think yourself funny, brother, but you require new material.”

The darkness melts away until Thor is staring up at the high, glass ceiling of Stark Tower. The slick feeling of Loki sliding back into his skin makes him shiver. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it. 

”You’re no fun,” Loki hisses. 

After Thanos’ attack on the people of Asgard, after Thor watched the life get squeezed out of his brother’s bright green eyes, Thor had seen red. The desire for blood had consumed him and carried him through until the final battle between the Avengers and Thanos had given him the retribution he’d sought. Once that rage and bitterness had left him, grief had taken residence in his heart and held him in ruins, leaving him alone with his regrets and failure. 

Grief was a powerful motivator, and Thor was a fool for love. 

He’d searched for anyone, anything, that could bring Loki back. He’d consulted texts of dark magic and even Midgardian scientists. Desperation eventually led him to a sorceress in the caverns of Vanheim where legend said a being beyond time—a sorceress cloaked in ice—would have the answers he sought. Thor had found her at a mountain’s peak; she’d been cruel and callous, but it like any other being she had her price—a favor from the crowned prince to leverage at her fancy. Thor had agreed at once. When the sorceress said she could bring his brother back Thor knew there would be a catch. Seidr was old and powerful magic. Anyone with the power to summon the dead had either been compromised by madness or aged cruel millenniums ago. Her spell had knocked him out cold, and when he awoke he had his brother back—though not as he once was. 

Thor thought it might be a nightmare come true, being so literally _bound_ to Loki in such a way. Loki, who already seemed to possess the power to read into his very thoughts, who had lived underneath his skin for as long as Thor could remember, now quite literally _lived beneath his skin_.

Tony Stark insisted he and Loki stay at Stark Tower while he ran extensive tests to determine what detriment, if any, having Loki attached to him might cause. It was admirable how after all the scientist had seen he still put faith in mortal practicality over magic.

Stark hadn’t needed to worry much, however. So far having Loki infused within his very structure has only been a detriment to his sanity. 

Thor slips out of bed and pads out into the kitchen. Back home he would have bathed first before eating and conquering the day, but the last two times he’d attempted that Loki had changed the temperature knobs from hot to cold rapidly and Thor had been too sleep-deprived to catch him in time. Now he waits until he’s fully awake before conquering the battlefield that is being in Anthony Stark’s pristine shower with an imp for a brother. 

Stark has servants that cook and clean this room—though with its shower and kitchen and entertainment center it could hardly be called just a room—but Thor had requested early on after agreeing to the Man of Iron’s surveillance that they not be allowed into his rooms while the two of them are present. The last time a chambermaid had come in to change the sheets while Thor and Loki were inside his brother had formed himself into a second head and scared that poor woman half to death. 

So, Thor is left to cook and clean for himself. Except he’s not that great of a cook. Stark is kind enough to provide him with a cabinet full of Pop-Tarts, though. 

“If you don’t slow down you’ll choke,” Loki says in that whisper-hiss cadence of his once Thor has woofed down a Pop-Tart and started on a second. That Loki sounds more like a snake now than ever before should be funny. Thor might have laughed, had he been able to find any humor in their situation. 

Annoyance flares deep within him. “I need the energy if I am to deal with your incessant chattering all day.”

“Well, don’t cry to me when Stark has to hire a team of tailors to let out that suit for you.”

Thor rolls his eyes. “You have my word.”

He pointedly eats three more Pop-Tarts and ignores Loki’s judgemental _tsk_ ing. There’s a throbbing behind his eyes that has been present since Loki was bound to him. He’s considered bringing it up to Stark during one of their examination sessions as a possible side effect of the binding, but he can’t be sure it isn’t just a product of having Loki in his ear 24/7. 

He rummages through the dishwasher in search of a clean glass, rubbing at his temples with his free hand even though he knows it’s futile. Just as he grabs one a black tendril shoots out and knocks a glass out of his hand. It falls against the dishwasher door and shatters, the sound deafening in the relative silence.

” _Oops_ , be careful, brother” Loki sing-songs.

It’s not the worse thing in the world—it’s not even the worse thing Loki’s done since they’ve been tangled up in one another like this. But for some reason, this is what breaks the last bit of sanity Thor has managed to salvageable in this personal Hel. 

He wants to be understanding, and on some level he still is. Thor knows how difficult it must be for Loki to lose his autonomy, and doing things like breaking glasses and scaring maids must give him a spark of that same mischief he used to deploy when he still had his own body to make mischief with. His heart breaks for his brother, but there is only so much one can _take_.

“Loki! Enough of this!” Thor roars.

Loki all but snickers, black appendages creeping out to wrap around Thor’s arms and across the counters.

”I’m simply taking your suggestion to use new material, dear brother.”

“You are being a _pest_.”

“I believe I’m being a delight,” Loki sniffs. Or whatever passes for a sniff in his state. “Tony Stark’s glass prison could use some lighting up. Speaking of, he has been quite moody since his Lady Potts came to her senses and moved out. Maybe we could give him a delightful scare?”

Thor’s head snaps up, though he sees nothing but wall. “Do not even jest. We are a guest in his home.”

Loki sighs forlornly. ”I wish you were more of a sport.”

“And I wish I wasn’t forced to have you in my presence from sunup to sundown, but it seems we both have to make sacrifices!”

Silence.

Thor had expected a quip or snide remark, but Loki is as deathly quiet as the room. The tendrils snap back out of sight and the crawling feeling that tells him Loki is on the move starts a mad dash down his spine.

He has truly messed up somehow.

Thor swallows a sigh. “Loki—”

The twisted up black mass that is now his brother slips from his skin and crawls across the room. Loki stands up to his full height, then promptly retreats to the top of the refrigerator.

“Loki, you are being unreasonable.” Thor tries desperately. Loki doesn’t emerge. It’s hardly noon and Thor already wishes to be done with this day. 

He knows he should apologize, but the words don’t come. He’s still angry, at everything: Loki’s childish restlessness, the endless tests, the fact that he may never know a moment’s peace ever again. 

Maybe he’s a little bit childish too because he doesn’t try to coax Loki from his hiding place again. His brother is a lot of things—loud, vengeful, petty, beautiful—but ultimately he is the same boy who used to cry for Thor’s love and attention. Eventually, his resolve will break. It always does.

At least that’s what Thor tells himself as he goes to take a shower, alone.

 

****

— — — — — —

Thor awakens immobile, cocooned in darkness.

It’s a welcomed sight. 

“Feeling better?” 

Only silence answers him. Loki has recovered enough to attach himself back to his brother, but it appears Thor is being subjected to the silent treatment. 

That’s fine. He can work with silence.

“I should not have yelled at you,” he starts, because it’s the easiest and he’s found that Loki likes to be placated early. 

The cocoon ripples and shifts, lungs moving and expanding to take in air. That’s how Thor likes to think of it, anyway. The thought of his brother actually drawing in breath soothes him greatly.

“I know this hasn’t been easy on you. I—I would be remiss if I did not take stock of my own selfishness in this matter. I did this to you because the thought of living without you… I could not bear it. I was willing to do anything to bring you back, but I did not stop to think if that's what _you_ wanted.”

Finally, the darkness retreats, except this time instead of looking up at the ceiling of Stark Tower, Thor is gazing into his brother’s eyes.

Not the same emerald green framed by gold Thor has known the shape and hue of since his youth. Loki’s eyes are white as gardenias with rings of darker green surrounding them. The rest of his face is malleable black tar that moves and pulses like his entire being is a pulsing muscle. It would be unsettlingly if Thor were capable of thinking of his brother as anything other than beautiful. 

“I’m sorry,” Thor whispers. 

The jagged line that makes up his brother’s lips parts, A slick hand slides slowly up Thor’s side until it comes to rest on his shoulder. The feeling is foreign, but not unwelcome. He wishes he could touch his brother and feel smooth, warm skin again, but that is not possible. He is willing to make do with what they have.

Just as he reaches up to cup Loki’s face his brother melts away. Black crawls up Thor’s shoulders and settles somewhere out of sight. Thor wants to scream in frustration, sure that Loki is playing games, but then he feels soft touches ghosting across the skin of his chest. 

After his shower, Thor had retreated to bed in only a pair of loose undergarments gifted to him by Stark’s assistant. Black spreads across his exposed chest to tease at the hem of them, tugging the edge down to reveal his coarse bush. Thor’s cock is already half at attention simply from sleep, and the intent behind Loki’s touch has him twitching with need.

“Naughty, naughty, brother,” Loki whispers from deep within his mind. 

Thor growls when Loki reaches out to rub against where his cock is almost laughably tenting his underclothes. Just as quickly as he rids himself of them his brother’s reach extends across every inch of his flesh, touching and stroking him everywhere at once so that Thor is dizzy with pleasure.

A tendril brushes against his nipple as another wraps feather-light around his cock. Tendrils slither up his legs like snakes to wrap tightly around his thighs. His legs are pulled apart as a third tendril slips feather-light over his balls to tease at his perineum.

“Touch yourself for me.”

At once Thor has his hand on his cock. They have done this before. As much as Loki like to mock his body Thor knows he’s enamored with it—probably the reason _why_ he puts up such a fuss about it in the first place. Thor knows Loki likes it best when he teases himself and draws it all out, a feast for his brother’s eyes.

He grips himself firmly and slowly drags his palm up from root to tip. He swipes his thumb through the pearl of precome collecting at the head and uses it to slick his strokes. Loki is quiet, unnervingly so, but the tightening of the restraints on his thighs betray his brother’s interest.

“Been a while, has it?” Loki croons. It takes Thor a handful of seconds to get his meaning. 

Thor grunts as feather-light touches graze his sac at the same time he squeezes the soaked head of his cock. “Been preoccupied with other things.”

Black swims up to wrap around his arms and tug, making his movements difficult. Though, Thor notices, it is not a silent command to stop. Loki’s tongue, long and slick but nimble as ever, licks a line up from his stomach to his throat where the barest hint of teeth scrapes against his throat.

“You’re leaking like a maiden,” Loki whispers, devilishly sweet.

Black vines crawl up his chest and wrap around his throat. His nipple is pinched and toyed with in a tempting tease that hurries his orgasm forward. It’s just like Loki to work him up and draw things out. Before, Loki would use his seidr to bind Thor to the bed and would drag the head of Thor’s cock so it would catch on his opening but not quite go on, knowing it drove his brother mad.

“Are you thinking of me? Of how I used to be?” Loki asks. Surprisingly, there’s nothing accusatory in his tone. He says it almost offhandedly, though Thor stutters his strokes. 

It feels cruel to say yes, it feels wrong to lie. “Yes.”

“My mouth? My hands? My hole?”

“ _Yes_.”

Loki tightens around his throat. “Don’t you wish we could go back? To before?”

Thor is shaking his head before Loki is even done. His orgasm is on the horizon, a flame blazing up from the base of his spine to the taut muscles of his thigh, but he suddenly needs Loki to hear this. To _see_.

“Any time, anywhere, this life and the next, I will take you as you are, Loki. _Always_.”

Electricity bursts through Thor’s veins as he comes with his brother’s name on his lips. Every muscle in his body pulls tight and falls bone loose as he rings the last pulse of spent from his cock. 

Thor falls back against the bed with skin buzzing, deliciously spent. HIs eyes slip closed as he tries to center himself again. As he does, he feels Loki release his limbs slowly and almost delicately.

Then, a slick caress across his lips. A kiss.

“Getting sentimental in your old age, brother?” Thor asks, eyes still closed. Loki doesn’t reply, but Thor can almost hear his brooding thoughts. He opens his eyes and looks down at his body to see bands where Loki gripped too hard and too long. He suspects there is a matching band around his neck and arms. “These will be difficult to explain to Stark. It appears you have made your mischief at both of our expenses after all.”

“ _Oops_.” Devious. Sly. Impish. 

“You are a pest,” he says with fondness dripping from each word. “I don’t know what I am to do with you, brother.”

Loki hiss-hums. “And yet you will never be rid of me.”

Thor smiles. “No, Loki, I never will be.”


End file.
